#tw: kindapping

[panfluidme]

Hey this is one-shot request for Chris angst

Kidnapping or near death experience (deep wound preferably) feel free to include any ships you like for Chris and some emotion angst for Martin

Thank you for feeding the Wild Kratts community ❤

HUMILIATED WHILE HURT

This was embarrassing, absolutely embarrassing. He hated that he was hurt, stabbed in the side while he watched Gourmond walk around the kitchen. Chris couldn't help but be glad that Gourmond had somewhat taken care of the wound, but that was only so if he needed to, he can use Chris as leverage.

Not ideal, but it still let him live. So he had to be begrudgingly be grateful for Groumond's 'kindness' and 'mercy'. He hated this whole situation.

Why did he decided to ditch Jimmy and run off with Martin? Yes, Martin was his best friend and brother, but Jimmy was his other best friend and boyfriend. There was no reason for him to run off because there wasn't much going on.

Surely Jimmy was going to be upset with him since he ditched him for no reason. And now he was with Gourmond and hurt. He was so stupid, so fucking stupid.

Chris leaned back and shut his eyes, his pain too overwhelming to stay awake.

Martin paced the Tortuga, worried out of his mind. Jimmy watched, kneeling and pressed against the back of his chair. Nothing was said while everyone was trying to figure out where Chris could've gone. Things had been going just fine while Chris and Martin goofed around with some cute animal.

Then Chris had heard an animal in distress and ran off before Martin could even react to things. By the time Martin had caught up, both the animal and Chris were missing, a big puddle of human blood. Car tracks had led away.

To say Martin freaked out was an understatement. Martin had nearly had a panic attack, his fear was so bad. He didn't know where his little brother was. And he couldn't stop blaming himself because he was the one who was dragged Chris away from his date.

And now Chris was missing and maybe even hurt. The puddle of blood was likely Chris', Martin just knew it.

Martin crouched down and put his face in his hands, trying not to start crying. He was so scared that he was going to lose Chris...

Chris was trying so hard not to pass out again. It had been two days, most of which he had slept through. But he didn't know how much longer he would be able to survive. He had lost a lot of blood and the wound hadn't been properly taken care of.

This was the end of Chris Kratt, he just knew it.

A shame, really. Chris still had so much to live for, but there was no stopping this. He had been hurt, he had lost blood, and he hasn't eaten since he arrived. Gourmond claimed that Chris didn't need the food because his life didn't matter, which is why Gourmond had only half heartedly taken care of the wound.

In a way, this was embarrassing. Chris was relying on someone he knew wasn't going to help him, Gourmond. Chris was waiting for someone who likely didn't know where to find him, Martin.

Shame swirled inside of Chris' stomach. He should've just told Martin he was too busy for a creature adventure. But... then Martin might've been in his place, and no one would know he was missing. So really, this was better since Martin wasn't the one hurt.

Chris knew Martin would disagree. In Martin's brain, any time Chris was hurt and it could've been Martin, Martin tore himself up and thought everyone would've been better off if he was the one hurt.

That mentality was something Chris was trying to help Martin to unlearn. Chris didn't want Martin to think like that because he hated when Martin was hurt, wishing he could take Martin's pain and make it his own.

A small laugh broke through his lips then a pained groan.

He was thinking in the same way that Martin was, but he was trying to help Martin not feel like that. Chris would never let anyone know that he felt this way because he knew everyone would try to get him to stop thinking like this.

Really, there was no much more Chris had to do anymore. There was once a time where he had been upset that he wasn't going to live through this, but he's come to accept his fate. Martin would move on from him, Jimmy would find someone better than him. He was easily replaceable, he's realized.

Maybe that was why Martin and the others haven't come picked him up. Maybe that was why Chris was alone, his only company was an animal murderer. Maybe that was why...

Black dots clouded his vision, his head lolling back. He didn't want to pass out again, but there was no fighting it.

The place was much brighter when Chris woke up. Something was poking his arm, but he barely acknowledged it as he tried to figure out what happened.

When Chris looked over, he saw Martin on a chair. Curled up and asleep.

Oh, so he was back home. Good, Chris had missed home. And now he knew that at least Martin needed him.

A small smile laced his lips as he fell back asleep.

[diyaphanous]

{kristine froseth, 28, cis woman, she/her} We are so glad to see you safe, VALET TO THE PRINCE NOEMI VON OLDENBURG of GERMANY ! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are DAUNTLESS and ARDENT enough to handle it. Just don’t let your PRIDE bring you down ! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out ABOUT YOUR FAMILY BEING INVOLVED IN SOME ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES .

name : noemi elisabeth theresia magdalena von oldenburg nicknames : noe , emi birthday : july 23 orientation : bisexual family : duke rudolf von oldenburg, duchess theresia ( formerly princess of lichtenstein ) . older sibling ( WC !!! ), younger sibling ( WC !!! ) character inspo : nina zenik ( six of crows ), nobara kugisaki ( jjk ), jo march ( little women ), daphne sullivan ( the white lotus ) traits : perceptive, social, assertive, erratic, boisterous, abrasive languages : german, french, spanish, danish mbti : esfp temperament : tba moral allignment : chaotic neutral

background

tw mention of emotional abuse, kidnapping , violence

your smile is so bright , you can barely see anything going around you until you see a crack through the light, the only shadow where you can rest in and as you sit down you finally realize you've been blind all the time . noemi's childhood is carefree or at least that is what she tried to make it out to be. now looking back at it , the glittery veil had been lifted and even the treasures and riches her father loved to brag about have lost their shine . she'd abided to many things, tried to pretend they were normal, that things she'd loved were considered to be only temporary that feelings were fleeting and wouldn't last anyway . love was a festering wound , spilling , a reminder ; sometimes forgotten or sometimes felt through pain and she wouldn't touch it. as she became older her father's greed also appeared to grow with her or perhaps it was only then that she was old enough to see it and the ways things didn't seem to add up . it was only when she'd stumbled into a hidden room within her home and met the tortured gaze of a stranger that she'd find out what her father did and had been hiding all those years . he was involved in illicit traits and other dubious activities. sometimes he'd even order kidnappings of important people or travellers such as royal legates or sometimes even nobility itself and use them as a threat. as soon as noe found out about it , she'd decided to turn her back on her family . she'd felt that she couldn't trust anyone anymore and she was afraid of finding out more things she didn't want to know about . however, despite her broken trust she knew that in some twisted ways she still wanted to love them because loving her family was the only form of love she'd ever known. that's why she couldn't completely turn their back on them and instead had made the choice of being a valet .

headcanons

// her mother's side of the family are royalty from the house of liechtenstein . she'd often spend time travelling there and truth to be told she'd always felt she belonged there more than to germany. similarly, the house of oldenburg belongs to one of the most influential noble families and in contrast to her father's hidden suspicious antics is quite beloved by the public. // right now, noe is just feeling lost and is trying to figure out her own feelings but also her future . she's glad she'd found a way to keep a distance from her family, yet she knows that she somehow has to make a decision soon. that's why she's just trying to stay out of any drama . yet, as someone who is naturally curious she also can't help herself but trying to find out the latest gossip and snooping around. // noe is quite flirty by nature which is probably a result of her quite flippant treatment towards love ( platonically and romantically ). she tends to lead people on sometimes unknowingly and if she isn't she thinks people have the same view as her . the thought of being vulnerable towards anyone terrifies her and there are only a handful of people she's truly close to. // she loves writing and has probably dreamed of publishing . yet, she also feels like that someone who comes from a family like hers does not deserve to share the stories of humans, hence she keeps that hobby to herself most of the times . // she also adores animals , however she feels like she's quite bad at handling them. she has a horse called rosine ( translation : raisin ) who is quite mean towards her but she can't help but love . more tba

wanted connections

her siblings : at least one is definitely aware of what their family does. perhaps they're even involved in it and do not understand why noemi distanced herself from her family and tried to find a way immediately out. maybe they are even resentful since she just left with no proper explanation. everything is definitely utp. cousins : the oldenburg family has a lot of branches in other countries so noemi being cousin to someone could somehow work. former friends that might've been driven away by her family / threatened by them once real friends as noe is someone who is very social people she flirts with because does it a lot but with no meaning, additionally someone who thinks noemi has an interest in them and is now confused ( could also be an unrequited love ) love interest ( slow burn / maybe an enemies to lovers or childhood friends to lovers ? ) which would contain a lot of angst as noe would push them away as she's afraid that they might find out about her secret or they might get hurt by her fam ) people who might work or did some (shady ) business with her family people who might know about her family's secret and try to threaten/blackmail her with it

[dark-konohagakure2]

Can you please make one where Momoshiki kindaps Sasukes daughter and uses her as his personal human toy? Also while degrading her and considering her inferior to him? Thank you soon much!!

tw: noncon, kidnapping, enslavement, collars, nipple clamps, humiliation, age difference, dehumanization, degradation

All characters depicted are 18+

Momoshiki has quite a grudge against both Naruto and especially Sasuke, feeling disgusted that a lowly human such as him would dare to posses both the Sharingan and the Rinnegan, both doujutsus that originated from the Otsutsuki clan, in fact the entirge Uchiha clan Itself came from the Otsutsuki, so Sasuke as no right to stand against him, but since he insists on doing so, Momoshiki will have to hit him where it hurts.

Momoshiki is a powerful otherworldly being with centuries of experience and knowledge, so snatching up one girl, even if she is the daughter of one of the strongest shinobi and strongest bloodlines, is child's play for the Otsutsuki, and he's able to grab her and force her back to his dimension with him as easily as he breathes.

Once he has her in his clutches, he's going to strip her of everything, both her clothing and dignity. Momoshiki will keep her completely naked at all times aside from a heavy metal collar on her neck and tight nipple clamps attached to a chain for him to tug her whenever he wants her to come over to him, or whenever he just feels like it.

He won't tolerate her activating her Sharingan while in his presence, the mere thought of a lowly worm of a human possessing and flaunting an ocular power that originates from his vastly superior clan greatly angers Momoshiki, and he'll be sure to reprimand her very harshly for such insubordination.

"Worm! Don't you dare flaunt powers that don't belong to lowly humans like you! Unless you want me to take your pathetic little self over my knee again..."

Momoshiki never asks her name nor does he bother to learn it, what he chooses to refer to her as will vary depending on his current mood. If he's feeling benevolent he'll call her 'pet' or even 'dear', but if he's in a nasty mood or just feels like being cruel to her (which is more often than not) he'll simply refer to her as 'worm' or 'vermin'.

Despite claiming and showing to detest her and her entire species, Momoshiki isn't planning on letting her go anytime soon, that is to say he's keeping her forever. It's either because he wants to torment her for eternity, or because he's developed some sort of sick attachment to her, but both possibilities are equally terrifying.

Part of him wonders if he has some sort of fetish for dominating human beings such as her whenever he finds himself using her pussy as his personal seed receptacle, Momoshiki is almost addicted to fucking her, wanting to do it nearly everyday and everywhere he can, although he'd never admit these desires aloud.

He'll even start making excuses for why he's keeping her around, although none of them will be selfless or wholesome. Momoshiki just wants more reasons to prolong her suffering and enslavement to him, not that such a powerful and untouchable being such as himself needs to explain his reasonings to a pathetic ant like her.

"Hmm~ You feel especially tight around me right now, my little kitten. Maybe I'll decide to keep you alive for a few more centuries if you keep up this good behavior..."

Momoshiki never thought he'd ever form any sort of 'relationship' with a human like her, let alone such an unconventional one, but now that he's discovered the pleasures of the flesh, he has no intention of ever letting her escape his clutches.

[itzsubbypiggy]

Tw: kindap

A kink that I've been going deeper and deeper into is my kidnapping fantasy. What if it starts off small? I give one or two vague details about myself until we start building some trust. But then it starts to get more personal, I tell you my favourite color, my favorite tv show, my age, my hair color, what car I drive, my name, what country I live in, and then what city I live.. where I work, where I eat, the library I go to, the gym I go to... the number in my street address, exactly where I'll be today. One more detail won't hurt, you say. You know how to get in the deepest parts of my mind. You're smart. You prey on the fact that I'm weak, a loser, and desperate for some love. You have a control over my mind that I can't explain. And anyways, what are the chances that you'll actually find me? I'm always a little bit anxious now when I leave my house, wondering if today's the day you show up. I wouldn't know what to do if I saw you irl. Everything we've talked about finally becoming a reality? Me realizing that I'm fucked. That I'm actually the bitch stupid enough to get stalked and kidnapped. You've been stalking me for months. You've watched me. Until you couldn't resist any longer you just had to confront me and shove me into your car so you can finally show me how much you love me. And you do show me, until I break. It's hard and I cry, but it's not all bad. We still have our trust and we have a different type of connection that we can't explain to others. You take care of me. And I do a good job at my new role. My holes are so sore. You're obsessed with me. I love you. <3

[master-sass-blast]

Children of the Gods: Part Four, Chapter One.

Summary: After everything with Thanos, life goes back to normal. You go back to training, assisting the teachers with their classes, tutoring students, and lovingly annoying the hell out of your husband.

You can almost forget the events of the past year --Allison Ricci, her war against Frank Castle, an attack on Xavier's by the Italian mob...

And then you come home to find your front door hanging off its hinges.

And then Frank Castle and Allison Ricci show up on your front porch, asking for help.

And everything goes to hell all over again.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Frank Castle x Karen Page.

Rating: M for kidnapping, death (not of any major or relevant characters), and gun violence.

Word Count: 5.1k.

Set after "This Life is Infinite" Parts One and Two.

Wind whips through your ponytail. Birds flit past, occasionally squawking angrily when you startle them. The sun shines high overhead, warming your back as you sail across the sky.

You’ve always found flight tranquil –meditative, even. There’s something about being so isolated from the rest of the world, alone with your thoughts and the rushing wind. It’s why, every now and then, you head out for some flying time, even if it’s just to catch a quick five minutes in the sky.

It’s like Piotr and his art studio; it’s a safe place for you to retreat whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or get that itchy, yearning sensation for freedom beneath your skin.

You arc back towards yours and Piotr’s home; you smile as anticipation thrums in your chest. It’s been, what, fifteen minutes? And yet you already miss your Russian giant and can’t wait to see his face and hear his voice and feel his arms around you—

You land on the lawn and start jogging towards the front porch –and that’s when you see the broken door.

The front door to your home –the blue one you’d both picked out at Lowe’s—hangs awkwardly off the bottom hinge. The metal exterior of the door is dented in, and the wooden frame where the latch slides into place is visibly splintered.

Dread makes your stomach churn. Your hands go clammy, heart pounding in your throat as the implication –the truth—of what you’re seeing sinks in. Someone broke into our home.

On autopilot, you call Nathan.

He picks up after two rings. “What’s up, kid?”

“Someone broke into our house,” you say, voice quavering. “I –I was out on a flight, and when I came back the front door was broken open. I don’t see Piotr anywhere, and I was only gone fifteen minutes; I don’t even know how—”

“Get out of sight,” Nathan orders, voice slipping into the sharp, serious tone he usually reserves for missions or incident involving Wade and expanding foam. “Go to the mansion. Stay there until I come get you.”

“But what if this is a hit against the X-Men?”

“Get back in the air, then. Stay out of sight and out of reach. I’ll call you once Wade and I have made sure your house is clear.”

You gulp when he hangs up, then fly back into the air. You swivel, looking for a good place to hide, then dive under a tree and float up into the canopy. You land on a branch, tucking yourself out of view of yours and Piotr’s driveway and the front porch.

You make another call, running on autopilot –this time, to Piotr.

The phone rings and rings and rings. And then, devastatingly enough, you reach his voicemail.

Your chin trembles as Piotr’s voice tells you he’s unavailable at this time, and to please leave a message and a callback number so he can reach you later. You hang up, wait a few seconds, and try again.

The voicemail answers once more. And the third time you try, as well as the fourth.

You sniff and scrub tears from your cheeks. You jam your phone in your pocket and curl in on yourself as much as your sitting position on the branch allows. Please be okay.

***

Nathan and Wade arrive less than three minutes later. You can hear their quiet muttering and quick, muted steps against the gravel driveway –and you can sense Nate’s presence as he reaches out to you and lets you know not to panic, that it’s them and not whoever broke into your home.

Your heart pounds in your throat while you wait for them to clear the house. Your butt’s slowly going numb against the tree branch, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You feel locked in place; your own terror’s holding you hostage.

Ten minutes later, your phone buzzes.

Dad: All clear.

You float down from the tree and sprint into your home. “Piotr? Piotr?”

The couch in the family room is upended (and, judging by the way it’s sagging in the middle, the frame’s been broken, too). Shattered glass litters the floor, glinting in the mid-morning light. The wall leading to your husband’s art studio is dented and cracked in multiple places.

Piotr’s studio is worse. Papers and pencils are strewn everywhere. His easel’s been knocked askew. His rinse cup for his paintbrushes is knocked over on the seat of the armchair, the dyed water long since having soaked in and stained the fabric beyond repair.

Bile rises in your throat when you spy the remains of a broken repression collar on the floor by the door.

“Intruders broke in through the front door,” Nathan summarizes. “It must have happened pretty fast, since we didn’t find any blood or other evidence of external injuries.”

No blood. That’s good. That means that Piotr is probably alive, and that there’s a way to save him, and that all you have to do is find him and rescue him.

He could be anywhere.

“Looks like they were ready to make him go easy,” Wade comments as he holds up a dart gun dart. “Wonder what sort of cocktail they put in this to make the Literal Man of Steel konk out?”

“You’re not going to be the one to find out,” Nathan says, using his telekinesis to take the dart from Wade’s hand so he can’t test it on himself. “Has anyone made any threats against the school lately? Have there been any altercations with criminal groups where you weren’t able to capture everyone?”

You swallow hard, then shake your head. “No. It’s been really quiet, actually. Calm, even.”

“Okay.” Nathan nods, then puts an arm around your shoulders and starts walking you out of the studio. “We’ll go check the school and talk to Xavier if he’s there, then you can come back home with us while—”

Wade goes stiff, then pulls his pistol out of his holster. “Nate.”

Nathan growls, then puts you behind his back before raising his rifle. “Don’t come any further.”

You hear it, then. Heavy, slow footsteps on the boards of the front porch.

“Easy, easy,” a familiar, gravelly voice says.

Nate and Wade lower their guns in unison.

“What are you doing here, Castle?” Nate asks.

Frank Castle steps into view. He opens his mouth to speak—

And then Allison Ricci shoves past him. “We need your help.”

***

The conversation that follows basically confirms your worst nightmare.

Not only is Piotr gone, but Artemis –Tatianna—and Allison were taken by the same people, along with several of Frank’s friends and known associates.

“They took us to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere,” Allison explains, voice flat. “They had a bunch of other people there, too –Miss Page, your husband—” she nods to you “—and his family. They had collars on all the mutants; everyone else was handcuffed.”

“And they didn’t handcuff you?” Nate asks.

Allison shakes her head. “I don’t think they knew I was a mutant. I broke out of my cuffs, then left when Artemis told me to go get help.” Her mouth tightens into a grimace. “She didn’t think I’d be able to fight all the guys there.”

“And you teamed up with your former mortal nemesis because…” Wade asks, pointing between Frank and Allison.

Allison rolls her jaw, but says, “Also Artemis’s idea. She figured he’d show up anyway to save his girlfriend, so I might as well be on the same page as him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Frank’s index finger twitching against his thigh.

“How many people were in the warehouse?” Nate continues.

“I don’t know.”

“It had to be a small army,” you sigh as you rub the back of your neck with your hand, “if they managed to take in Alex.”

Allison frowns, shakes her head. “She wasn’t there. Just her kids and her husband.”

You stare at the teen, dumbfounded. No way in hell someone abducts Alex’s husband and children without her putting up a fight.

Judging by the grave expressions on Wade’s, Nathan’s, and Frank’s faces, they’re all thinking the same thing.

You pull your cellphone out of your pocket and dial Alex’s number.

She answers on the third ring. “Ya sluchu vas.”

You frown.

Nothing’s making sense. If Nikolai, Mikhail, Piotr, Illyana, and Tatianna are imprisoned and Alexandra isn’t, the only answer that makes sense is that someone finally took her out and captured her family afterwards, when there’d be no risk of evisceration.

But she’s alive, which means…

She has no idea, you realize. You blink when you hear Alex shout your name, then start talking, “Alex, where’s your husband?”

“What?”

“Where’s Nikolai?”

“He… he’s at home. With the dogs.”

“And where are you?”

“I… had some errands to run. What’s the point of this? Why did you call me? What’s going on?”

“Where’s Mikhail? And Illyana?”

“Mikhail’s with Nikolai…” There’s a beat of silence, and when Alex speaks again, her voice is tight, clipped. “They’re not home, are they?”

You swallow hard, then look over at your dad. “Nate’s gonna pick you up and bring you over to New York.”

Alex curses in Russian. There’s the sound of a car door slamming and an engine turning over, then she growls, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

***

You’d never really considered how many guns a mercenary might own before; between Nate, Wade, Frank, Alexandra, and your uncle (Nate picked him up after Alex, seeing as this is a “All Hands On Deck” situation), the five of them have enough fire power to stock a decent sized gun store.

The seven of you have relocated to Wade and Nate’s apartment –a reasonably clean (considering that Wade lives there) and spacious two bedroom unit in downtown New York city. You’re all hunkered around the living room on three mismatched recliners –one of which is a lurid shade of highlighter yellow—and a plaid futon that’s an offense to even Oscar the Grouch’s sensibilities.

You’re relatively certain there’s still a coffee table underneath the mountain of firearms, ammo, and other weapons.

Alex, Frank, Nathan, and your uncle all alternate between pressing Allison for information –where approximately is the warehouse, how many men did you see, how far did you have to travel to get back to the city—formulating a plan, and hashing out just what led up to this particular incident.

“It’s my fault,” Alex grinds out as she cleans and preps yet another pistol. She puts the slide back into place, then starts loading a clip with bullets. “There were… whispers, after the mall incident. Displeasure at my involvement, my children’s involvement, with everything.” The left corner of her mouth twitches down into a scowl. “I didn’t snuff them out fast enough.”

Right. Because, apparently, Nikolai has a brother –a mutant who joined up with the mob of his own volition. Allison described him well enough that Alex recognized him; as far as anyone can figure, he’s the one heading up this whole operation.

“It was a matter of time,” your uncle insists as he places a comforting hand on Alex’s arm. “You didn’t exactly make friends out in Siberia. They would’ve tried to figure out how to put you down eventually. This just… accelerated things.”

“I think my ex-attorney had something to do with it, too,” Allison muses, arms crossed over her chest such that she looks like she’s pouting. “We know she called in the first team to try and kill me. My sources suggest there’s been contact between the Ricci’s and the Siberian brotherhood since then.”

It’s practically laughable. Crime families colluding to wipe a handful of mutants and a vigilante off the face of the Earth? You’d think they’d have better things to do with their time.

But they don’t. If anything, this is exactly what they need to do with their time. To protect their territory, their assets, their investments, their influence. You –your family—only wound up in their scopes because you got in the way.

And that’s how it’ll always go. You’re always going to be in the way. As a mutant, as someone sworn to stand against injustice and corruption. You’ll always be on someone’s shitlist; there’ll always be someone with too much at stake or gray enough morals to decide that their bottom line is more important than your life.

Your fingers pick absently at your lower lip. You stare into space, thoughts spiraling in the same dizzy pattern. It’ll always be same. We’re never going to be completely safe. Someone’s always going to want us dead, and it’s just a matter of time—

“Blah, blah, blah, whatever. Snack break time!”

You jolt when Wade grabs your arm, then yelp as he yanks off the couch.

“No Sour Patch kids,” Nate says, voice equally fond and stern. “I’m not cleaning chunks of your tongue out of the sink again.”

Allison cringes. “Gross.”

“And here I thought you liked my tongue,” Wade shoots back as he fishes a Hello Kitty change purse out of the junk drawer in the kitchen.

“Not in pieces, I don’t.”

Wade offers Allison an apologetic shrug when she retches. “You want anything, Tiny Terror?”

The nickname gets an eyebrow raise, but she shrugs back. “Something salty. Nothing with nuts.”

“No salty nuts, can do.” Wade laughs when Allison pulls a face, then claps a hand on your shoulder and ushers you towards the door. “Come, extra hands! We have sustenance to acquire!”

“Oh, is that all I’m good for now,” you manage as Wade shoves you into the hall and in the direction of the floor’s vending machine.

You sigh as you follow him into the alcove where a few vending machines standing, humming quietly. “Alright, what’re we getting?”

“That can wait.” Wade stashes his Hello Kitty change purse into the pocket of his hoodie –hot pink, with a bedazzled unicorn on the front—and studies your face for a moment before asking, “Are you okay?”

You sigh and rub your temples. “No. I’m not.” When Wade doesn’t say anything, you take it as the permission it is to continue. “I… I can’t deal with this, Wade. Every time we turn around, there’s someone who wants to kill us. Because we’re mutants, because we threaten their bottom line, because we’re connected to the wrong people in their eyes… It’s never going to end.”

“No,” Wade agrees quietly, “it’s not.”

“I’m never going to be completely safe,” you continue, voice quaking. You swallow against the lump in your throat, clench your hands into fists, then continue. “The people I love are never going to be completely safe. And don’t –don’t fucking hit me with some ‘there’s no such thing as completely safe’ bullshit. This is different.”

“It is,” Wade says, nodding. He draws you into a hug when you start crying silently. “I’m so sorry, sis.”

You cling to him, to his eyesore of a sweatshirt. You body shakes with silent sobs as you mourn –for the life you’ll never have, for the pain your family has endured and will endure, for the fate the students at Xavier’s are liable to share, all for something that was never in their control. You sniffle. “This sucks.”

“Yeah. It does.”

You sniff again, then step back and dry your face with the heels of your hands. “Is it worth it?” you ask Wade once you catch your breath. “Going through all this?”

Wade considers, then nods slowly. “I think it is. I mean, shit’ll be crazy, but… you’re gonna be happy. And safe enough. For us, I don’t think there’s much more you can ask for.”

Part of you wants to argue –because you and people like you deserve more, deserve to not have politicians and corporate bigwigs campaigning against mutants and pouring money into specialized prisons just to hold all of you over petty infractions, deserve to not have crime syndicates teaming up against you over the apparent threat of your fucking DNA, deserve to not have to settle for “safe enough.”

But it’s a long way down that road; you’re not likely to see the end in your grandchildren’s lifetimes, let alone your own.

And Wade’s right. You’ll be happy.

(You’ll be a hell of a lot happier when you rescue your husband and get him back home where he belongs.)

Wade smiles when your shoulders finally relax. “That’s better.” He hugs you again, then turns to face the vending machines and cracks his knuckles. “Alright, how many Twizzlers do you think I’d need to make a viable bungee cord?”

You laugh. “More than they have in stock here.”

(Wade cleans the vending machine out of Twizzlers and Snickers. He makes a show of tossing the Snickers bars at Frank’s head once the two of you get back to the apartment, until the former Marine threatens to deck him.

Wade bats his nonexistent eyelashes. “Only if you’re gonna ‘swab my decks’ while you’re at it.”

“Fuck off, Wilson.”

You laugh and laugh, and –for a moment—you can believe that everything’s going to be okay.)

***

You don’t care about the plan.

You’re all driving out to some godforsaken warehouse in the middle of nowhere because there’ll be too many people to teleport or bodyslide back. Seven of you and the mountain of guns are split between Frank’s murder van and two SUVs; you’re driving Allison because Wade can’t drive, your uncle and Alex are still talking strategy with Frank in his death trap of a van, and no one had thought it best to leave the teen alone with Frank for any length of time.

You’re both silent as you trail the SUV Nate’s driving –and that’s likely because you’re both in the same position.

Neither of you care about the fucking plan.

This isn’t about strategy. This isn’t about ‘assessing threats’ this and ‘optimum entry points’ that. This about getting your people –Piotr for you, Artemis for Allison—back where they belong.

This is war. A bloodbath waiting to happen. Rough, messy, even cruel –whatever it takes.

“Do you think they’ve already killed everyone in the warehouse?” Allison asks in a rough whisper.

You tense your leg to keep from mashing the gas pedal against the floor. Your knuckles go white as you grip the steering wheel tighter. You inhale deeply through your nose, then grit out, “For their sakes, they better not have.”

***

The warehouse is, in reality, an abandoned mall in the center of a defunct town. Weeds grow tall in the cracks in the parking lot pavement. Several of the windows have been graffitied over or are just plain broken. A few mannequins still stand on display, caked with grime and other detritus.

“Ah, capitalist apocalypse hellscape!” Wade chirps as he hops out of the other SUV. He stretches, groans when something in his back pops (“fucking seventh vertebrae, pain in my ass”), then unsheathes one of his katanas and twirls it. “Alright, what’s the plan? Duck into Macy’s to check out the sales, swing past the pretzel stands, then pop a few baddies before cleaning out the clearance sale at Claire’s?”

“They could be anywhere,” Frank gravels out. He scowls as he scans the mall front, then turns towards Allison. “I thought you said it was a warehouse.”

“I thought it was!” she snaps, fists clenched at her side. She stalks towards Frank, teeth bared in a surly scowl. “We were in some kind of storeroom, and I had to duck out a loading bay door. I ducked into the ether after that; it seemed more pertinent to me to find help, rather than get the fucking building specs!”

“Loading bay doors will be away from the main façade,” your uncle says.

“There’s over twenty-five stores,” Nate comments, expression grim. “We don’t have time to check all of them.”

You look to your uncle, then look over at Alex when you realize he’s watching her.

Her eyes glow a dull copper color as she scans the abandoned mall. She sucks a breath through her teeth as her gaze flits erratically across the structure. “There’s heat signatures everywhere.”

“They’ve got back up,” Frank gravels out when the meaning hits.

“East Wing,” Alex tacks on. “Cluster of people in a storeroom.”

“Could be bait,” Nathan grunts.

“Not unless they got someone Piotr’s size… and a couple of kids.”

Frank’s trigger finger taps against his thigh as he swallows hard. “What’s the plan?”

“Where is everyone?” your uncle asks, looking up at Alex.

“Mostly in the East wing,” she answers after a moment.

“We can draw them over to the other side,” your uncle suggests. “Summers, Wilson, Alexandra, and I can make a big enough scene to let you and Castle slip in and free everyone.”

Allison scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “What about me? And don’t tell me to just stay here and watch the cars! I’m too old for guard duty.”

And too young to be in the direct line of fire, you think. “Come with Frank and I,” you suggest before an argument breaks out. “Stay in the ether; chances are, we’ll need to make new entrances and exits to get to the hostages. We’ll need you for that.”

“Wait until you hear us start in,” your uncle tacks on as he hovers into the air, “then get moving.”

You gulp as Alex details out the directions to the proper storeroom for Frank. Your body tenses, and your pulse pounds in your ears as you stare at the darkened mall front. Hang on, baby. We’re coming.

***

The desolate, inky interior of the abandoned mall makes your skin crawl.

Aside from the sounds of your uncle, Nathan, Wade, and Alex wreaking havoc in the distance, it’s dead silent. You can hear every breath you take, the shuffle of your footsteps against the cracked linoleum tiles, the nervous flutter of your pulse in your ears.

Frank stalks ahead of you, footsteps silent from years of practice. He’s decked out in his Punisher gear, rifle in hand. If it wasn’t for the last dregs of the sunset and the white skull on his chest, he’d fade into the shadows like mist.

You jolt to a stop when Frank slows ahead of you and holds up a hand. He peers around a corner, looking both ways down the chasm of the main hall, then looks back at you before jerking his head at a looming storefront ahead of you.

Get across quickly, then get back out of sight.

You nod back, then dart after him when he breaks out of the shadowy corner you’d tucked yourselves into and heads for the store entrance.

The inside of the shop –a Macy’s, you think—is just as desolate as the outside of the mall. The space is largely ransacked; the glass display counters that once showed off jewelry and perfume are smashed and long since picked over. Clothes and hangers litter the floor. Several of the mannequins have been toppled over, but a few still stand upright, showing off clothes from several fashion seasons ago.

A “Get Ready for Summer” banner hangs over a ruined display; the picture of a laughing woman and child almost seem to mock the ruin of the store.

“Rasputin said the loading dock was on the left side of the store,” Frank whispers –though, somehow, his voice still sounds rough, like he’s made a career out of eating glass and gravel.

You nod. “So, first floor, look for any ‘employees only’ signs?”

After a moment, Frank sighs. “Best place to start.”

The two of you creep through the store, stepping over fallen clothing racks and ruined bits of hangers and display cases.

(You’re trusting, at this point, that Allison’s following the two of you; she sank into the ether before you and Frank made it five paces from the cars when this all started.)

After some cautious searching with a flashlight, you stumble upon a hall with a sign marked “Employees Only” –one of the many spots you’d normally overlook if you were a regular shopper.

“One way in and out,” Frank grumbles. He turns and scans the space behind you both, where you’d just been, then growls under his breath. “Stay behind me; keep an eye on our six.”

You creep after him, making certain to glance over your shoulder every few steps.

One of the doors in the hall is an employee’s only bathroom. Another is a breakroom (a rat scuttles out when Frank opens the door to clear the space).

At the end of the hall, though, is a much larger door –one that boxes of clothes or a cart of cleaning supplies could easily be maneuvered through.

Frank motions for you to wait, then tests the handle. He opens the door slowly –still holding the handle so the latch doesn’t snap back into place and make a noise—then peeks inside. After a moment, he pushes the door open a little wider. “Keep back,” he whispers. “Stick to the shadows.”

Let Frank bait out anyone that might be hiding, then kick their asses when they try and jump him, you reason. You nod, then slip through the door after him and hang back.

The storeroom smells like dust; you have to scrunch up your nose to keep from sneezing. A few, rat-chewed cardboard boxes dot the concrete floor. Metal shelving units –also coated with a thick layer of dust—line the room like walls in a maze.

In the back of the room, one fluorescent bulb buzzes.

You have to duck to see through the gaps in the shelves, but you can make out a group of people –several adults, and two kids, and—

Piotr.

It takes all your self-control to not run to him then and there.

The area’s still not secure, you remind yourself. You clench your hands into fists and force yourself to focus. You sweep your gaze around the room, first to Frank, then to the other shelves and shadows—

‘Not secure’ is an understatement. You can pick out at least five goons dressed in black and bulletproof vests that tucked behind various shelves and corners.

Judging by the rigid line of Frank’s shoulders, he knows he’s being watched, too.

Fortunately, the men take the bait. They wait for Frank to get within a stone’s throw of the hostages, then start following him.

Before you can blink, Frank whirls and shoots the closest man between the eyes.

The two kids in the hostage group yelp and cover their ears.

The first guy falls, splattering blood and brains across the cement floor.

The second guy, unfortunately, is faster than Frank’s trigger finger. He holds out one hand and wrenches Frank’s rifle from his grasp, then pulls a pistol out of his holster with his other hand and takes aim at Frank’s head.

You lunge towards the man and push as hard as you can with the air around you.

He sails over Frank and into the nearest wall. There’s a sickening crunch, and then he crumples to the floor in a broken heap.

“Fuck!” The other men whirl, torn between attacking you and Frank. Before either you or Frank can charge, the ground cracks open beneath their feet. Dark, shadowy tendrils –the most “solid” ones almost resemble arms and hands—latch onto their legs and yank them down.

The men scarcely have time to shriek before they disappear beneath the floor.

The ground cracks again, glowing blue at the edges this time; Allison rises from the ground, stumbling a little as she resituates herself on solid flooring. She spares half a second to sneer at Frank, then lets out a gasp of relief and darts over to the hostage group. “Artemis!”

“Hey, kiddo.” The assassin lets Allison hug for a moment, then nods to where her hands have been cuffed to pipe. “We need to move. Help us get these collars and cuffs off.”

You and Frank work with Allison to free everyone; in the next few minutes, you learn that the kids are part of the Lieberman family (and that “Micro,” Frank’s tech spook, is their father), that the blonde lady wearing the skirt suit and the heels sharp enough to sprout a vein is Foggy’s girlfriend, Marci (and that she didn’t know Frank was the Punisher, and you can’t wait to rub it in Wade’s face that you got to witness that dramatic revelation firsthand), and that the Lieberman family, the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page, and Marci were grabbed due to Karen’s connection with the “Allison incidents.”

Guess it’s best to clean house, leave no witness and all that shit, you think without much humor. You use a knife –gifted to you by Wade—to cut the wires on Piotr’s repression collar, then step back so he can break out of the cuffs himself.

Your husband snaps the steel handcuffs off his wrists as though they’re made of wet tissue paper. He stands, stretches, then wraps his burly around you. “Myshka.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” You nuzzle against his chest, just for a moment, then force yourself to let go so you can help free the others.

Nikolai gives you a one-armed, grateful hug when you pick the locks on his handcuffs. He hugs his children –including Artemis, who hesitates but doesn’t seem too put out otherwise—after, then looks to you again. “Where is Alexandra?”

You open your mouth to reply, then flinch when an explosion goes off that rattles the entire building. You gesture in the direction of the destruction. “That way, I’m guessing.”

Nikolai’s mouth settles into a tight grimace. He nods.

“We need to get out of here,” Matt pipes up. “This place is crawling with hostiles.”

“Any close by?” Frank asks.

Matt cocks his head to one side, then nods at the loading bay door Allison mentioned earlier. “There’s a group of them heading towards us from outside. I count at least ten.”

Frank swears, then pulls a pistol off a holster on his belt and hands it to Mikhail. “Anyone else here competent with a gun?”

“I found mine!” Karen answers, picking up her purse from where it was discarded behind a pile of boxes. She pulls out a .380, checks to make sure it’s loaded, then nods to Frank.

“I’ll manage without,” Artemis says when Frank offers his other pistol to her.

Nikolai out one hand. “I can.”

Frank hands the firearm off, nods approvingly when Nick checks the safety and the clip, then ushers the Lieberman children away from the loading bay door. “Alright, let’s move.”

[jymwahuwu]

Hii! How are u? Have u drank enough water? Also, I am fucking in love with your content, like omfg, ur so talented!! Theres being sayed, could I pretty please with cherry on top get a oneshot of yandere Scaramouche after kindapping femele darling finding out that girls have periods💀(I am on my period so I just need some comfort, ok?).If u do decide to do my request, please, take your time.Hope ur feeling good, and have a wonderfull day!

Thank you for your kind words, this is an encouragement to me!! 💕💕 wrote a bit about it but it’s not a oneshot, just some yandere fluff...

TW: yandere, kidnapping

Wanderer started his journey, but already had an attachment to Sumeru - so he was willing to listen to God of Wisdom's teaching, and was caught by the students to join the cooking interest group without any resistance. He has only wandered in the territory of Sumeru now, and found you on the road. You are scared by rishboland tiger in the forest. What a stupid thing.

Wanderer rescues you irritably and tells you to leave quickly, but you don't seem to be able to survive in the forest. The next time you meet, Scaramouche pulled you out of a big flower and saved you again. He built a forest cabin and decided to raise you there - although you might call it kidnapping or something. He just limits your range of activities and prevents you, an idiot who doesn't fully understand the world, from falling into the dark.

One day, Scaramouche was going to cook some shawarma wrap for you, but found that you were biting your lip, with your hands on your lower abdomen, and your expression was different… the slightest bit of pain?

He had never had a formal education, and learning about physiology was out of the question - especially about women's biology. At first he thought you might have eaten some forest mushrooms. He panicked, and all kinds of dark memories flashed before his eyes like frames.

He immediately takes you to the God of Wisdom and asks her what's going on. He blushed under Nahida's explanation and scolded you two irritably. On the way back, Scaramouche bought you period products and painkillers at the Grand Bazaar.

You snickered next to him and felt less pain.

[songmingisthighs]

[9.55] mafia!wooyoung × reader

⇀ good thing you're smart, if not Wooyoung wouldn't have a whole attitude change

⇁ tw : violence, torture, kindapping, mafia life

⇁ part 1 / 2 / 3

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author's imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

You don't remember how long it has been since they captured you. Being stuck in a basement would do that apparently.

Whoever was behind your capture had been torturing you beyond your own imagination. They had starved you, hit you, kicked you, attempted to drown you, tied you in an uncomfortable position every night, and sent in someone to make sure you don't get an ounce of sleep.

All that just to get information on Wooyoung.

Currently, you're being tied to a chair, being once again interrogated for informations you had no clue about, "things would be much easier if you'd just give us what we want," the buff man in front of you said, he held a knife to your cheek but at this point you couldn't even flinch, "where is Jung Wooyoung's headquarters?"

Your cold outfit was clinging onto you like second skin, it's uncomfortable and it's dirty, the cold had definitely impacted your health.

Recently all you've been able to feel is just the headache and the burn from inside your body. Not even the abuse given to you was able to inflict you pain.

Everything's just numb.

You look up at the man, almost with a challenging look as you press your face daringly to the blade, "I. Don't. Know." you spat each word like venom.

The man laughed, pretty amused at how daring you are being, "you're his wife, there is no way you wouldn't have known," you rolled your eyes at him, bitter that he used the word 'wife' because you know fully well that Wooyoung would never treat you as such, "then I must've not been his wife now, am I?" You retorted back at him, slightly shocking him because this is the first time within the (apparently) 7 days you've been captured that you had said something else other than 'I don't know' or 'fuck you'.

Everyone was startled at the revelation, they probably hadn't concidered that you might not be Wooyoung's wife. No one really know about Wooyoung's personal life, it seems.

Seeing their hesitance, you take this as your chance of escaping.

The buff man grab your hair harshly, his eyes narrowing at you in suspicion, "don't lie to me, whore, if you're not his wife, then why'd you have a wedding ring on?" "Stole it from my mistress before I ran away, needed the money," you lied easily, surprising yourself.

"And why are you wearing it?" He asked again, "to make it less inconspicuous, people need to believe that this belongs to me or else they'll alert the cops that I'm a thief,"

He seemed to be having an inner turmoil on whether or not he should believe you.

With how you've been acting and the lack of evidence that you are Wooyoung's wife, you could really have been the wrong target.

"That means Handong lied to us," he said as he push your head away, talking to one of the men next to him, "bring him in and get this bitch out," he said simply before turning back to leave.

But before he walked out of the room, he looked back once more at you with a bitter smirk, "make sure to... deal... with her first, insurance for your silence,"

When the doors closed, 5 men approach your figure, still tied on the chair.

One of them crouch down in front of you, he brush your hair out of your face with a sad smile, "I'm sorry that we have to do this, pretty girl," confused at what he said, you just stared at him. But then he suddenly slap you so hard that you fell down along with the chair you're tied to.

And thus began one of the longest night of your life.

Meanwhile Wooyoung was getting antsy. His men couldn't find you anywhere and there isn't a second when he didn't regret turning his abundance of cctv off

He spent his days either in meetings or trying to track your whereabouts. San had to step in and actually force him to eat, going as far as cuffing him to his chair and spoon-fed him, even throwing a cheesy "would (Y/N) be happy to see you in this state?" At him to which he replied, "considering how I treat her, I wouldn't be surprised if she is,"

So far, neither yours nor his parents were aware of your disappearance. His dad only asked about you once to ensure he still has leverage, which of course Wooyoung lied, he's already stressed over your disappearance the last thing he need is for his dad to bit his head off.

Each night he spent sleeping in his bedroom, moping to the fact that he genuinely misses and worried about you. He regret taking you for granted, taking your presence for granted. Now, he could only imagine your sleeping form next to him using the memories of when he actually slept in bed with you. He used to be able to feel your warmth next to him, now it's just cold and he dislike it.

Tonight was no different. Before he got into bed, he went to the walk-in closet and look at all the dresses he had brought you to events that you went to (re : events he was forced brought you because his parents would be there). He remembered every how you looked in every single one of them.

It's pathetic of him, to be pining over the woman he claimed to have no care about.

Just as he turned the walk-in closet's lights off, there were commotions from downstairs, then a huge bang like his front doors had been barged open.

Diving into his instincts, Wooyoung grabbed the nearest gun he had hid all around the room and ran out, thinking that it was a raid by his rivals.

But when he looked down from the second floor to the living room, his heart wrenched and he froze.

San had you in his arms, you looked sickly pale with bruises all over your exposed arms and legs, clothes had chunks of them torn, and you weren't moving. One would assume that you're dead.

Wooyoung dropped his gun and ran to his friend who had just put you on the couch.

The sight of you looking so broken panicked him. He wanted to hold you and be glad that you're home, but he doesn't wanna hurt you. He wanted to tell you how sorry he is and that he'll make up to you but he's not sure whether or not you're still alive.

He snapped his head towards his staff, "call the doctor! Call Kang Yeosang in!" He barked to which his staffs immediately obeyed, scrambling to do as he ordered.

"God, baby, who did this to you?" He muttered to himself, reaching forward to brush your hair out of your face.

You stirred a bit when you heard his voice ans managed to open your eyes despite the splitting headache and the soreness all over your body.

When your eyes met his, you smiled, "hey, what are you doing in my dreams?" You croaked out, throat obviously sore and beyond parched from having been denied fluids for so long. It was your turn to brush his bangs from his eyes, something you've always wanted to do but know never could considering his dislike that turned out to be hatred towards you.

You suddenly frown at him, making his gaze on you softer, "I'm sorry," you muttered, not able to speak louder. At that, he tilted his head, "for what?" "Not being able to stay gone, I had to had the will to live, I should've let them kill me," you said before you slip into unconsciousness, rendering Wooyoung speechless at your words.

Before he was able to retaliate, San had swoop you back into his arms to take you to an empty room so Yeosang could come in and treat you.

"No," Wooyoung called, stopping San in his tracks, "bring her to my- our room, she should feel comfortable," to which San just nodded and obey, knowing how important it is to have you next to him as much as him next to you.

Yeosang came in not long after and spent 3 hours cleaning and stitching your wounds, checking for possible internal injuries, all the while making sure he's handling you with the utmost care as Wooyoung had been glaring daggers at him. Whether it serve to be a warning to not harm you or a sign of jealousy as Yeosang had a perfectly valid reason to cut your shirt and shorts off for handling.

"I can't make a clear diagnosis without checking for internal injuries, we have to take her to the hospital," Yeosang said. But Wooyoung just snap at him, "then freaking bring the machines here! She's not leaving this mansion and she's not leaving my side!"

Both men just stared at each other for a few minutes, Yeosang holding onto his ground on wanting simplicity, and Wooyoung being afraid of losing you from his sight again.

Knowing how stubborn his friend can be, Yeosang was first to crack, sighing and nodding at Wooyoung, "I'll see what I can do," he said simply before going out to talk to San about possibly transporting some of his machines.

The rest of the night, Wooyoung took care of you. He had put you in one of his large, white button up because it's the easiest to put on you. He stayed by your side in a chair, afraid that he might hurt you (than he already necessary does with his words) if he were to slip in bed with you.

As he watch you, his hands moved to held yours in his. His thumbs were rubbing the back of your hand when it suddenly caught on something.

Looking down, he noticed that it's your wedding ring, matching his own which he's wearing.

It brought a smile to his face seeing you're still holding onto it so dearly. You could've left it for him to find and throw away the day you left, but you had decided to take it with you.

Could it be that despite everything he's done to you, you don't want to completely erase him from your mind?

And that's what made Wooyoung broke down and cried.

He didn't deserve you, not one bit. But despite that, he knows that he's the only one capable enough of taking care of you, to provide for whatever it is that you need.

So at that moment, with you back in hia arms, he decided to step up and assume his responsibilities and treat you as how you deserve to be treated.

[youryanderedaddy]

Bewitched

I say fuck writing schedule m’rite hahaHa... 

Dynamic: Yan!witch hunter x witch darling

Summary: You get captured by the village’s witch hunter but he might just let you live if you prove to be useful.

tw: nsfw, non-con, threats, mention of religous themes (God, Devil, etc), kindapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, slight violence, degradation, vulgar language

 You could hear something. It was different from the sweet songs of the birds early in the morning or the restless howl of the wolves just before the clock hit midnight. And the smell was different too. There were no daisies, roses, magnolia or herbs to cleanse the air from the nasty smell of humans. Your clothes reeked of someone unknown, someone mortal and cruel, foolish down to their heart. Your hands were tightly bound, your shoulders pushed back in a way it was hard to feel the energy running in your own veins. There was a leather blindfold over your eyes, dulling your senses until you felt like nothing more than an animal trapped in a cage. As soon as despair managed to find its way into your lungs he entered the room and you knew instantly it had been him who had captured you.

 "You are awake." The man noted quietly as his heavy yet careful steps got louder, closer. Soon his hand was resting on your thigh, drawing small pictures, initials, anything to throw you off balance and keep your mind closed and your inner vision too blurry to focus more on killing him and less on the shame his touch brought. "The village paid me to kill you. We know you are a filthy creature of the night." He spoke trough his teeth in a eery, off-putting way. You could feel the cold sharp end of his silver dagger poking at your exposed collarbone, near to your neck. One inch away from a fatal wound, one move away from taking your life forever.

 "Go on then." You taunted the hunter while licking your scarlet lips, your heartbeat still violent with no sign of slowing down any time soon. "Kill me." You whispered despite the fear tearing at your insides like a wild beast. The blade suddenly pressed harder against your skin, enough to make you still frozen but lacking the actual strength to pierce. The human knelt down next to you, never dropping the deadly weapon from its sacred spot on your vulnerable neck. "You are a witch. The Devil's own spawn and blood. I just can't let you live among us." The man uttered quickly like a curse yet made no attempt to move the edge deeper. And you wanted to tell him everything about the sisterhood and the way all of you lived in peace and quiet until the villagers started killing off your friends for existing. The way you loved nature and harmony and despised violence, but of course the human would never listen to a dirty sorceress, a witch. So you just stayed there motionless on the ground, reconciled with your terrifying fate and its twisted ways.

 Meanwhile the hunter let the dagger penetrate into the warm flesh, drawing a few drops of fresh blood, and it dripped onto the floor like a brook of suffering. But the man was hesitating - his palms were sweaty and his eyes were hazy, he was unsure. After a few painful moments of indecisiveness he finally pulled the blade away and threw it in the dark corner of the room. The following silence filled the space with tension so heavy it could suffocate until the villager opened his mouth. "You have seduced me with this unholy body of yours." Adam said sternly and clenched his fists. "That's why I can't kill you." His voice was low and dangerous yet desperate and defeated. "I saw you back then in the forest." He started off as his hand traveled to your cheek and stroked it gently. "You were dancing around and picking flowers. You looked so pure and beautiful - like an angel. I couldn't stop watching you." The hunter confessed quietly and you felt his cold lips on yours. The kiss was bitter, soaked with the humiliation of his advances and the knowledge he had you at his mercy. "Damn your evil magic for making me feel this way". The man dragged his teeth through your lower lip and bit down in anger, moaning into the forced act of fake intimacy.

 He pushed you down aggressively, the ropes digging into your bruised flesh even more now. You couldn't move your limbs at all and you felt too tired to argue or yell at the man. It was clearer than a day that he was obsessed with you but it was far from your doing. If you had known just how easily humans became fascinated by beauty and youth you would have thought twice before using their forest as a home. And as much as you wanted to curse the cruel man forever your heart just couldn't let you harm someone with a beating heart. You were stuck and he was touching you everywhere with a palm so warm it felt like wax on your sensitive skin. Your long black dress was ripped to shreds and all the red beads from your necklace were rolling on the floor as a mockery to your title. You were stripped down to your bones and left with nowhere to hide from the monster trying to break you. The energy in your body was gray and filthy, too weak to do more than upset you even further. 

 "I am going to make you mine tonight. I will use you like the dirty pagan slut you are." Adam cupped your breasts together in a swift move and you shivered at the contact of flesh. His words were painful and didn't help ease the fact that it was the first time someone had touched you in such a private place. In no time your eyes had filled with tears you were too proud to spill but too scared to hold back. "Aww, are you crying, wench? Go on, cry some more for me. When I'm done with you no one will want you. You'll be ruined for anyone other than me." He cooed at you and took hold of your naked legs, spreading them apart which caused you to break down in a pitiful mess of tears, snot and hushed breathes. "You should be greatful I am letting you live. If you weren't so beautiful I would have killed you in an instance." The hunter kept going, his voice low and deprived, his hot fingers brushing against your belly, the disgusting feeling in your guts making your chest tighten, caging your bleeding heart inside. "You are lucky I like taming wild animals." He continued harshly, a crazy look in his enlarged pupils so blue and clear, yet so intimidating and suffocating to its victims.

 You inhaled sharply in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves and begged the villager with any strength left in your trembling body. "Please stop, please, for the love of the universe, just don't do it, just let me go and you shall never see me again." In reply the man simply smirked maliciously and licked his lips as he positioned himself over your open, exposed folds. His hands were rough and grabby, roaming over your frame and groping, digging, pinching every little curve. You prayed to both nature and the Gods above someone would come and take you away from this nightmare but to no avail. "No one will save you, witch. If they find you, you're dead, so you better be nice and quiet like a corpse while I take you." Adam spat out with poison and without any warning thrust his massive manhood into your tight entrance. The pain was sharp and piercing, white and hot. This time you started crying out loud in despair finally having realized you were truly alone. The humans wanted nothing more than to see you burn and now you were getting punished for being different.

 The man didn't spare you any moment of suffering. He would place wet kisses all over your body, bite at the soft flesh until red and scratch any time he felt the need to hear your miserable whines. "Look at the way I'm splitting you open on my cock, you are so damn tight. I wouldn't have guessed you were a virgin if you weren't bleeding like a little bitch." Adam chuckled darkly and hit your cervix over and over again until the pain turned into something else you were too ashamed to name. "If you ever try to tempt someone else with this sinful body of yours I'll fucking kill you." The man cursed under his breath and brought two finger over your clit, stroking it gently and drawing cicles. You threw your head back at the sudden jolt of pleasure and closed your eyes, trying to distance your mind from what was being forcefully done to your anatomy.

 "You feel so good around my cock, so pretty with your tits bouncing every time I pound into you. I love you so much." The hunter suddenly uttered as he slowed down the pace, driving into you with careful thrusts before going back to roughly shoving his length into your sensitive hole. "Say it back." He ordered lowly and smashed his lips on yours pushing his wet tongue all the way in, his hands messaging your breasts and toying with the stiff little nipples on top. You gained the courage to shake your head no so the villager wrapped his fist around your slender neck, giving it a light squeeze as a warning. You had no choice but to mumble a soft "I love you." when your survival instincts took over your dignity. Your sweet broken voice was enough to send the man over the edge and he came violently in your tight channel while whsipering all sorts of terrible, filthy words into your ear.

 You thought the torture was finally over but your hopes were quickly shattered when Adam pressed his fingers over your overestimulated bud and flicked it around, your mind finding it hard to copperhead the intense pleasure after the pain. "Cum for me, wench." He commanded you harshly and kept playing with your love button until your pussy clamped down and you experienced your first orgasm at the hands of a filthy, egotistical human.

 The male stroked your hair gently but still didn't move to undo the ropes keeping you restrained on the hard floor. "I've always wanted you." The hunter admitted in the next moment. You wondered whether you wanted him to shut up or keep rambling to distract you from the shame and humiliation. Your eyes were red and puffy from the sobbing and your head pulsated with dull pain. "I'll never let them catch you." Adam reassured you quietly as he drew small circles on your arm with his knuckles. "I will keep you forever, my love. It doesn't matter that you have succumbed to the Devil because from now own you are only going to serve me." He kissed your neck softly.

 "I'll become your God."